1920

Hockley Residence

The 1920 Isotta-Fraschini Type B automobile pulled up to the curb outside the Philadelphia mansion, Cal jumped out of the car before Andrews could open the door for him.

Cal partially threw his overcoat and briefcase at the butler as he ran inside.

"Whoa!" Krüger jumped out of the way.

Cal sprinted into each room trying to desperately find Rose.

Running past the kitchen, he caught Madeline's attention. She paused cutting the carrots and faced the entryway, waiting for Cal to reappear.

After a moment, Cal returned to the entryway, poking his head into the room, "Where's Mrs—"

"—Upstairs, res—" Cal took off, "—ting..." Madeline shook her head with an amused laugh.

The employees of the house looked up at the ceiling as they heard Cal's stomping feet across the floorboards. They turned their gaze from the ceiling and shared a look of amusement.

Master Bedroom

For some time now, Cal and Rose decided to convert Rose's room as the master bedroom, since it happened to be the biggest.

Cal's separate room acted more as of a dressing room and sometimes a guest bedroom if they had any visitors which was a rare occurrence. In honesty, the Hockley's much rather preferred being with each other in their own bubble than sharing it with anyone else.


Cal threw open the bedroom door to see Rose sitting in bed against a stack of pillows at her back.

She lowered the book onto her chest and watched as Cal walked fully into the bedroom. He loosened the black tie around his neck and took off his suit jacket. He unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt and removed the cream coloured vest as he walked over to the bed.

As he crawled onto the bed and Rose smiled at him closing the book she had been reading. She placed it onto the nightstand as he came closer to lay at her side.

Cal took the sleeping newborn wrapped tightly in a blanket from the crook of Rose's arm. "Hello, sweet pea," Cal greeted his new daughter. "It's your daddy. I missed you all day." With the back of his forefinger, Cal gentle caressed the newborn's plump cheek. "Were you good for Mommy?"

"Gracie had a big day," Rose whispered as she kissed the top of the newborn's fuzzy dark hair.

"Oh?" Cal pressed his lips to Grace's forehead, "What did my girl do today?"

Rose began, "She had lots of milk and then it all came out into her cloth… it was quite disgusting," she smiled down at the child. "She then took a nice long nap, ate again, and then she was watching me read a book called, Chéri. Gigi had sent it over earlier today. She's returned from Paris."

"Oh, Gigi is back. That's good, you'll have a friend again."

"I don't need a friend. I'm plenty occupied—" she saw Cal's smirking expression and dropped her act and let out a breath, "—Thank God she's back. I was beginning to think I was going to die here alone."

"That's very dark of you," Cal ran the tip of his finger down the short line of Grace's nose. "I understand that you're lonely and I've been at the office much more than I anticipated, but please don't think that I don't want to be here." He looked at his wife, "I want to be here. I want to be with you and Grace all of the time! So much so, you'd be annoyed with me because I just won't go away."

Rose let a small smile tug at her lips. She wasn't mad that Cal was working so often. She knew if he had it his way, he would've much rather be with her and their daughter.

To prove she wasn't offended, Rose hushed him by pressing her hand against his cheek. "I know," Rose told him sweetly and pressed her lips against his softly.

"When do the nannies come for their interview?" Cal asked.

"Um..." Rose twisted the small diamond watch around her wrist, reading the time, "They should be here any minute. Which means we'll have to prepare. Which means," she brushed back the fallen dark strands of his hair, "you need to look presentable again."

"Fine…" Cal huffed with a frown. He crawled out of bed with the infant still cradled in his arms.

Standing at the vanity mirror, Rose fixed the loose curl falling on her forehead. She ran her hands down the front of the beaded dark coloured dress. Cal stood over her shoulder, holding the baby with a smile, watching Rose fix the long necklace around her neck.

"This is new," Cal ran his eyes over her.

"Latest fashion trend and it's very comfortable. Do you like it?" Teasingly, Rose slowly spun around for him, showing off her dress.

With his free hand, Cal wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her close into his body. "I love everything that you wear—especially when you don't wear anything at all." He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers and gently kissed her mouth.

"Mmm," she pulled away from his kiss and took the baby from him, "when they do come…" Rose began to say carefully, searching for the right phrasing that wasn't so insulting, "… Please, darling, don't be so… you."

Cal pouted mildly insulted, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can be very—"

"—Dashing?" Cal smiled and cocked a high brow.

Rose frowned, "Intimidating."

"Who? Me?" Cal grinned cheekily.

Only did Rose know his true genuine self. He was a very complicated man who needed someone with patience, candidness, and intelligence to put him back into place.

Cal Hockley had a perfect understanding of how he was perceived outside world. It was a carefully crafted persona of 'distinguished gentleman' and 'arrogant businessman'.

1 ½ Hour Later

Parlour Room

Tired of these interviews, the middle-aged English woman that had been a recommendation from her mother, Ruth turned away to exit.

Sitting patiently in a chair with her ankles crossed and the infant in her small rocking crib at her feet, Rose's eyes were on Cal, who stood at the fireplace mantel. He looked as bored as she.

Cal eyed the pocket watch that was chained to his waistcoat.

"Sir, there is one more applicant," Andrews announced.

Lifting his dark eyes, Cal looked across the room to Andrews. He nodded, "Yes, yes, let the last girl in."

Cal moved from the fireplace and stood behind Rose, "Finally," he whispered into her ear and placed a hand on her shoulder.

With a small smile, Rose patted his hand.

A timid young redheaded woman entered the sitting room. Rose ran her eyes over the young woman, she wore her best dress and a walking hat. A leather strap of an unfashionable pocketbook was around her wrist.

Keeping her expression unreadable, Rose estimated the young woman's age as twenty years old and she was very nervous.

Mentally counting to three in her head, the young woman said, "I'm Ellen McDowed," she spoke with a gentle Irish accent. "Th-these are my references." She stuttered and held out a white piece of paper with various names of the local families she's nannied.

Cal cocked a snobbish brow, eyeing the paper from over Rose's shoulder.

Lifting her eyes from the reference paper, Rose tossed the nervous applicant a small smile then looked back down at the paper, "You live in Mantua?" Rose raised her eyes from the paper to the young woman.

"Y-yes, it's the Irish neighbourhood. My family immigrated to America a few years ago." Ellen said.

Cal frowned and looked over to Rose, who wore a similar curious expression.

With peaking interest, Cal asked, "What Cunard Liner did you travel on?"

Ellen shook her head politely, "We didn't travel Cunard but White Star Line. I was only a girl but the ship sank. My father and brother stayed aboard."

"I'm so sorry." Rose felt her heartbreak for the young girl. It was a reminder that she was not the only one who lost someone on that fateful day.

"I've been nannying since I was thirteen. At first, it started as only a means to help me mother support my two younger siblings but now… I-I really do love this job."

Keeping his sympathetic emotions out of the interview, Cal peered over Rose's shoulder again and took the sheet of references from her hand, eying it carefully.

He looked over at the young woman again, his frown deepened. "Do you have experience with infants?"

"Oh, yes, sir. From the ten families listed, six of 'em children were infants. I have experience with newborns to children in their teens."

Eyeing the young woman sceptically, Cal asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty, sir. I'll be twenty-one in seven months." Ellen felt the pressure of their eyes on her. She had never been into a house like this. The families she nannied for were very poor. Her mother had encouraged her to take a chance. She had the skills, knowledge, and the personality to be an excellent employee for the high-class elite.

Doing the sum quickly in her head, Rose then asked, "Ten families in eight years," she eyed the young Irishwoman sceptically, "why is that?"

Ellen frowned, "I was never sacked if that's what you're implyin'… Those families couldn't afford to keep me anymore. They had no choice but to let me go."

"Have you ever nannied for a home like this?" Rose had already known the answer.

Ellen's cheeks reddened, hoping she wouldn't be so obvious. She replied honestly to the questions, "No, ma'am. I have not. But that doesn't mean I am inexperienced. I am a very good nanny. I will love your precious daughter and I will take the utmost care of her. I can be someone you and your daughter can trust." Ellen swallowed, terrified that she hadn't blown an opportunity of a lifetime.

She relaxed when she saw Rose's look of approval. Ellen released the breath she had been holding in tightly.

"Could you sit with Grace for a moment?" Rose asked standing up from the chair she had been sitting in, Rose looked over to her husband. "Darling?"

Cal narrowed his eyes over his wife and put out the cigarette between his fingers in an ashtray. He followed Rose out of the room but frequently looked back to see Ellen sit down with Grace.

Entering into Cal's office across the hallway to the sitting room, Rose grabbed Cal by his wrist and pulled him into the office.

"Jesus Christ, what are you doing?" Cal fixed his suit jacket's sleeve and frowned at his wife in confusion.

"Will you stop lolling about and come and see this," Rose ignored his question and waved him over.

Rolling his eyes, Cal did as told and stood behind Rose, looking over her head watching Ellen interact with Grace.

Ellen sat on the floor beside the rocking crib. The young Irishwoman smiled at the cooing baby and gently rocked the child back to sleep.

"She's rather good with her," Rose observed.

"Are you telling me you want to hire that—"

Rose faced her sometimes very pretentious husband holding a finger against his lips. "—Caledon Hockley don't you dare finish that sentence." She scolded him. "There's no need to be a snob."

Unable to admit that she was right, Cal instead took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You want to hire her?"

"Yes, I think we should. She's the best applicant we've seen all day."

Smirking, Cal couldn't resist to tease her, "You just don't want to hire your mother's recommendation."

Shaking her head and facing the crack of the open door again, Rose said, "You dare to tell me that, that Katie Nanna wasn't a complete bore?"

"She was firm."

"But not kind," Rose argued.

Taking her hand that was at her side, Cal slowly turned Rose to face him. "Answer me this…" with his free hand, he tenderly touched her cheek, letting his forefinger slide down the line of her jaw to the tip of her chin. "Do you want to hire her because of Titanic?"

Without a breath of hesitation, "Yes—partly," Rose admitted. "I want her as our daughter's nanny because I think she'll do us good. I think we owe it to her and her family that has suffered tragedy to give her at least a chance."

A small smile tugged the corners of his mouth. The pad of his thumb gently brushed over her bottom lip, "Okay." He nodded. "We'll hire her."

"Thank you," she closed the small space between them and kissed him gently across his mouth.

He tightens the arm around her back, keeping her close as he kisses her until she chuckles against his mouth.